


It is what it is

by ToxicPineapple



Series: Amamota Week 2020 [4]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Amamota Week, Amamota Week 2020, Angst, Background Oumeno, Background Relationships, Background Tenmaki, Backround Kiiruma, Bars, Bittersweet Ending, But Kokichi and Miu have a drinking contest in the background, Conversations, Everything is done legally and..., First Meetings, Introspection, M/M, Platonic Relationships, Pro tip: Don't do that, Rantaro is really going through it, Well I want to say responsibly, alcohol use, they're all adults
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27381922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicPineapple/pseuds/ToxicPineapple
Summary: There go his friends, off to make mistakes. Rantaro should probably go supervise.He doesn’t, though. He stays seated at the bar, and when the bartender slides over his drink, he tips some of it back, enjoying the woody flavour of the scotch before putting his glass back down on the counter, listening to the sounds of the ice cubes clinking in the cup underneath the sound of shitty pop music and chatter from various parts of the building. This sure is a bar, huh. Rantaro vaguely recognises the song that’s playing right now-- some song that the teenagers love enough that’s been played to hell and back-- but not well enough to do much more than hum along to the chorus.Man, Rantaro doesn’t even know why he’s here.---Rantaro meets Kaito at a bar, and remembers how it feels to want.---Amamota week day four: Spring/Autumn
Relationships: Amami Rantaro/Momota Kaito
Series: Amamota Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994860
Comments: 11
Kudos: 19





	It is what it is

**Author's Note:**

> written for amamota week day four! the prompt was spring/autumn
> 
> all the drinking in this piece is done legally by adults :)

“A’ight,” Miu stretches her leg over onto the driver’s seat, and Rantaro takes a moment to appreciate Kiibo’s composure (that, or their just generally being used to Miu’s antics), that they can just sigh and keep driving. “We need a fuckin’ designated driver, because the only one of you shits who ain’t drinkin’ tonight is Tiny Tits back there, and her legs are even shorter than her--”   
  


“Stop talking about my boobs!” Himiko cuts Miu off with an indignant yell, jumping forward in her seat. Were there not an entire seat between the two of them, Rantaro isn’t convinced that she wouldn’t clear the distance and make Miu eat shit right here and now. Miu lets out a squeal at the suggestion of such activities regardless, and maybe a little bit at Himiko’s tone, which isn’t offended so much as it is annoyed and loud, shriveling in her seat. “It’s not about my height! Driving is just a pain.”

“Yuuup, and you’re not gonna turn my beloved Himi Himi into a chauffeur, are you?” Kokichi, from where he’s seated on the hump, pouts, leaning forward to look at Miu. She swats at his face, and he huffs.

“Don’t call me that,” Himiko grumbles, though whether she means the word  _ beloved  _ (which she really shouldn’t fuss over, because Kokichi gives that title to just about anybody) or the nickname  _ Himi Himi,  _ she doesn’t specify. Rantaro doesn’t think it matters, though. They’ve been going out for the past three months. Kokichi gives her a shit eating grin in reply, and she rolls her eyes at him, turning to look out the window. This, Rantaro thinks, is a pretty typical interaction for the two of them, though he’s heard from Kokichi that they have their more serious moments when other people aren’t around.

They ought to. Kokichi and Himiko work really well together, in a weird, unexpected way. (Not least of all because everyone in the friend group through they were both gay, prior to their relationship.) They just can’t take each other seriously enough not to bicker whenever they’re in a group setting.

“I offered to be designated driver,” Rantaro points out, resting his cheek on the back of Kiibo’s seat. “I’d really rather not do any drinking tonight when I have a trip tomorrow.”

“No!” Miu shakes her head, drumming newly painted nails on the dashboard. “Not wormin’ out of that one so fast, Rantiddies! The whole point of tonight is to get you laid! I’m tired of seeing your single ass sulking all over your apartment whenever you’re not out chasing foreign babes or whatever you do on your trips.”   
  


Rantaro  _ wishes  _ it was something as simple as chasing foreign babes. He smiles wryly. “I’m asexual,” he reminds Miu, gently.

Sputtering, Miu retorts, “I know that! Join the fuckin’ club, weirdo! This car’s got so many aces we might as well just toss me out, ‘cause there’s no point in hanging around a bunch of cucks who can’t even appreciate my assets.” She huffs. Rantaro smiles, more genuinely now, because he knows Miu is just saying that. Out of everyone in this car, aside from Kokichi, he’s known her the longest. She doesn’t know about what happened to his sisters, but she’s been there for him when almost nobody else has. “But I meant like, metaphorically laid, or whatever. Find some other hot asexual who wants to talk politics with you all night, or whatever you shits do when you’re not having sex.”

“Miu, you’re talking like all we do is sleep together,” Kiibo frowns.

“W-- Well, I mean,” Miu flusters, gesturing with her hands. “Y’know! It’s not like we’re a one night stand, you’re my date mate, that’s different…” her voice trails off at the end, and she mumbles a little, messing with her hair. Kiibo takes a hand off the wheel to pat her on the head before they turn their attention back to the road.

“You two are gross,” Kokichi says casually. “All sappy and disgusting. Himi Himi would  _ never  _ get all affectionate on me like that.”

Himiko grumbles a little, resting her head on Kokichi’s shoulder. He immediately shifts to accommodate her weight, tucking an arm around her. It makes Rantaro smile. Everyone in this car, with the exception of Kiibo, is all talk. The affection these guys all feel for each other is apparent through their actions.

It’s… hard, sometimes, to believe that Rantaro is an active participant in all of this, but he’s trying. It’s been years since he met Miu and Kokichi, back in high school, and they all met Kiibo and Himiko in University, and they’ve been together since, sort of… cruising. As much as Rantaro can really cruise, considering that ever since graduating college, he’s been spending more time out of town than in. That would’ve been his policy for University, too, y’know, but that’s not… always how things work out. His father wanted him to get a business degree. And Rantaro has to get his funds from somewhere.

Ugh. Dwelling on that is just going to make Rantaro angry, so he lets go of the thought, coming out of his head, especially when Miu snaps in front of his face. “Oi, space cadet, you in here?” Miu cackles a little at the insult, apparently recovered from her earlier embarrassment. “So listen, romance virgin. Kiib’s gonna be the designated driver, yeah? So go apeshit!”

“When have I ever gone apeshit?” Rantaro asks indignantly.

“Don’t get in cars with strangers,” Miu continues. “But if you find a really  _ hot  _ stranger, then just tell one of us where you’re at so we don’t start handin’ out fliers with your nose drawn too big.”

“Mmnnn,” Himiko frowns. “That’s a lotta effort just to make Rantaro’s nose seem bigger. Couldn’t we just edit a photo?”

“It’s for the fucking reference!” Miu huffs.

“Reference to what?” Himiko’s nose wrinkles.

“You’re all hopeless,” Miu groans. “Why don’t I get to have cool friends? I’m so sexy and awesome. The universe has it out for the best people.”

“I’m sorry your friends aren’t cool and sexy enough, Miu,” Kiibo deadpans, pulling into a parking space. “I also hope you know this means that likely only you and Kokichi will be drinking tonight.”

“Yup!” Kokichi hops out of the car over Rantaro, who shifts backwards to oblige him. “I’m totally gonna beat her again at our drinking contest!”

“You will not!” Miu shoots back, getting out of the passenger side, power walking over to Kokichi. “That’s a lot of talk for the guy who didn’t even fuckin’ win last time!”

“Did so!”

“Did not!”   
  


“Did so!”

“You only like sweet drinks,” Himiko mumbles, picking at her ear as she comes up to stand next to Kokichi, looking slightly drowsy. He takes one of her hands in his and slides it into the pocket of his hoodie. “How’re you gonna beat Miu in a drinking contest like that?”

“My beloved fails to see my secret technique,” Kokichi says, and with a devious smile, he retrieves a packet of Stevia from his pocket. “Boom. Three packets of this in my vodka, and it’s perfect.”

“K--” Kiibo looks slightly nauseous, climbing out of the car. (Rantaro takes the moment to do the same, though he stands a good distance away from the group, stretching out his limbs, breathing in the open air. That car was stuff.) “Kokichi, please don’t put Stevia in vodka.”

“What’s Kiibo gonna do? Tattle on me with the bartender? Nishishi, they don’t get paid enough to care about that stuff, y’know?” Kokichi grins.

“Actually, bartenders make a pretty good salary off of tip money,” Kiibo corrects, entirely distracted by the change in subject. “I worked at Shirogane-san’s place for a while, and I made a lot… the only issue was that it’s essentially like being a therapist with no real boundaries set in place. Very taxing when all you’re there to do is make and serve drinks.” They sigh.

“Very cool, Kiibaby!” Kokichi beams. “I don’t care.”

Kiibo rolls their eyes at that, and Rantaro chuckles a little as he straightens out his clothes, eventually following the rest of the group down the sidewalk to the bar. Kiibo used to react much more strongly to Kokichi’s teasing, but they’ve undoubtedly gotten used to it by now. Rantaro can still remember a time when Kokichi pushed it too far, back in their junior year of University, when Kiibo ended up nearly on the verge of tears. Kokichi had feigned indifference at the time, as he does so well, but he’s never gone anywhere close to that far since, so… that should speak for something. Kokichi is a brat, even now at age twenty five, but he’s well meaning most times, Rantaro has found. Got a good heart in his chest.

And like Miu, he’s been there for Rantaro more than almost anybody else in the world. He appreciates them, and Kiibo and Himiko too. They’re all his best friends.

…God, they’re loud, though. Kiibo and Himiko individually aren’t so bad, but around their partners, their voices and attitudes just tend to go up and up and up. And Rantaro can deal with it, but it usually ends up feeling like he’s the chaperone. Which he doesn’t mind per se, but it’s October 7th, the closest Rantaro will allow to a birthday celebration on the actual day of his birthday, and for some reason he doesn’t think that chaperoning is what Miu had in mind when she dragged him out today.

To appease her, because she hovers over his shoulder while he orders his first drink, he gets a scotch and water. And she scoffs at him anyway, because it’s watered down, but it’s the best she’s going to get, goddamnit. Rantaro doesn’t like being inebriated. If he doesn’t keep his senses sharp, bad things can happen. People can get lost. Miu must sense that he’s not going to budge on this, maybe for that reason, maybe for some other one, because she stops badgering him before long, allowing herself to get pulled off to lose against Kokichi in a drinking contest. There go his friends, off to make mistakes. Rantaro should probably go supervise.

He doesn’t, though. He stays seated at the bar, and when the bartender slides over his drink, he tips some of it back, enjoying the woody flavour of the scotch before putting his glass back down on the counter, listening to the sounds of the ice cubes clinking in the cup underneath the sound of shitty pop music and chatter from various parts of the building. This sure is a bar, huh. Rantaro vaguely recognises the song that’s playing right now-- some song that the teenagers love enough that’s been played to hell and back-- but not well enough to do much more than hum along to the chorus.

Man, Rantaro doesn’t even know why he’s here. He doesn’t celebrate his birthday. Even before all his sisters were lost, it’s been a day that he shares with his sister Mina, and he always preferred celebrating her instead, rather than splitting the attention. It’s not that Mina would’ve mind sharing the festivities or anything. Mina is sweet, generous. The kind of person who you could punch in the face and she’d ask you what happened to you. Things have been a lot easier on Rantaro since he brought her home from San Francisco.

But he doesn’t like the attention. Doesn’t like being sang to by big groups, doesn’t like the gifts or the sentimental speeches. He’s never really deserved it, never really flourished in spaces where he’s the main focus. Even before Rantaro took the useless older brother award, he would’ve preferred maybe a cupcake, or something, with a single candle, and then time to go out by himself and explore. Find something interesting instead of sitting inside with people all day.

Nowadays, all Rantaro  _ really  _ wants is his sisters back home with him, safe. And not even the best of friends could give that to him. He doesn’t know why he puts up with Miu dragging him out to bars like this, acting like this is anything special that Rantaro should be trying to celebrate. Maybe it’s just that he owes her. Or that he appreciates the sentiment. Whichever it is, he’s here now, so… he should probably do something with that.

Once again, Rantaro doesn’t move, he just keeps idly sipping his drink, people watching, his gaze unfocused for the most part, until someone slides into the spot at the bar next to him, leaning forward to flag down the bartender. Rantaro doesn’t try to look, not least of all because it’s a stranger and staring is rude, but he does sneak a glance, enough of one to catch a glimpse of a scraggly jaw, a goatee done into a fine point. Unruly purple hair tied back into a bun. Rantaro sips his drink and averts his gaze just as the man’s lilac eyes slide over to meet his, which is probably a little rude to do when caught staring, but also, Rantaro isn’t really  _ trying  _ to meet anyone new tonight, despite what Miu kept saying in the car.

“Hey,” the stranger says, and fuck, god damnit, evasive maneuvers weren’t effective. Rantaro looks back at the man, whose handsome face is all angles and soft lines, and feels a sheepish smile curling his lip despite his best efforts. God damn it all. This man is pretty as fuck. Look at his stupid fucking. Cartilage piercings. Rantaro isn’t  _ here  _ to get metaphorically laid. Fuck off, inner Miu. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt anythin’, I just outgrew the dodging eye contact shtick back in high school, so I figured I’d say something.”

  
Okay, fuck off. Any embarrassment Rantaro feels at that melts away when the man smiles. He has an unfairly bright grin, all toothy and wide with his tongue poking out slightly, and it doesn’t make Rantaro’s heart flip because Rantaro’s heart doesn’t have that setting, but boy, he sure is feeling some kinda way. “Nah, don’t worry about it,” Rantaro says, and he takes another sip from his drink before putting it down. “I’m supposed to be meeting people tonight, anyway.” He considers rolling his eyes, then decides against it. He won’t do Miu like that with a stranger. Likely, she’ll do herself like that, if she meets this man. Rantaro will spare her reputation for now.

“Oh yeah?” the guy’s grin widens. “Me too, actually. I’m third wheeling tonight and that shit got old fast.” He tosses a look over his shoulder, and, given permission, Rantaro follows his eyes to a couple of women sitting by the window, one with long black hair tied over her shoulder in a braid (as well as piercing green eyes), the other a brunette, currently tugging on one of the twintails made of her hair. Then he looks back at the man sitting beside him. “Momota Kaito, by the way.”

“Amami Rantaro,” Rantaro returns, and when offered a handshake, he accepts it. Kaito’s hand is large, and slightly hairy, and incredibly warm. His grip is firm but not painful. If there was ever a way to give a tender handshake, Kaito just did that. Rantaro’s gaze flickers up to the man’s face, his eyes. If his black-haired friend’s eyes are piercing, his are the opposite, a soft, warm violet that almost seems to be caramelised in the amber glow from the bar. It reminds Rantaro of blackberry jam spread thin, maybe. Or those sunsets on the ocean, the ones where the sky glows a bright purple before darkening and filling with stars. “It’s nice to meet you, Momota-san.”

“Call me Kaito,” Kaito says, waving a hand as he releases Rantaro’s. The bartender comes over with his drink, a beer, it looks like, plain and simple and very macho, but Kaito already sort of exudes those vibes, so Rantaro really isn’t all that surprised, and the man pauses to open the can, but doesn’t drink it yet. “So, you’re supposed to meet people, huh? Does that mean you’ve got friends lurking around to make this happen?”

“Ah,” Rantaro glances over to Miu and Kokichi’s table. They’re easily the loudest patrons here. “I think they’re a bit preoccupied to do that, to be honest.” He gives Kaito a wry grin. “Which is to say that any conversation we have here will happen completely naturally.” He picks up his glass again, holding it out to bump against Kaito’s can, and the man obliges, and they drink.

“I’m a fan of that,” Kaito admits. “Easier to talk to people without interruptions.” He smiles slightly, less of a grin this time, and tilts his head, raising his eyebrows at Rantaro. “So, you’re just here to make some new friends, huh?”

“Hah, I wouldn’t give myself that much say in it,” Rantaro chuckles a little, sipping his scotch and averting his gaze. “More just to get my friends to stop bothering me. I don’t think I could’ve gotten away without having some kind of birthday celebration.”   
  


“Oh?” Kaito’s tone becomes slightly interested. “Is it your birthday?”

Rantaro groans. Damn it. “No, it’s not,” he sighs, running his free hand through his hair. “My birthday was a few days ago. But I don’t celebrate on the day of because I share the day with my sister. If I had it my way, we wouldn’t be celebrating at all, but my friends don’t really see the logic in that.”

“Bad memories with it?” Kaito asks. His smile becomes softer, and it makes Rantaro’s chest feel warm for the fraction of a second before he remembers that Kaito is a complete stranger who just asked him that question. He snorts.

“Not really,” he says, and it’s true. Nothing bad has happened to Rantaro on his birthday. He even found Mina, so there’s no reason to be out of town on October 3rd. That’s not really the issue, here. “I just don’t like all the fuss. It’s a day of the year.” He shrugs, swirling his drink around slightly for something to do, and because he doesn’t particularly want to go for another sip right this moment. “Having all the attention on me in general is uncomfortable, but when it’s not even for something that I did, it’s,” he shrugs. “Y’know.”

Also, Rantaro doesn’t deserve it. Not for a second. No matter how many sisters he finds, no matter how many good things he does or friends he helps out, it’s not going to negate the fact that he got all his sisters lost in the first place. That he’s flaky and unreliable. That every partner he’s ever had has broken up with him because he refuses to communicate. Because he refuses to be vulnerable. Nevermind that he doesn’t deserve that kind of relationship, one where he can just… air his problems, like that. Nobody seems to get it. And not about his birthday, either.

…That’s far too vulnerable to say to Kaito, though, a perfect stranger, even if the guy does have a kind smile, so he keeps it to himself.

“I get what you mean,” Kaito offers, gesturing with his beer can. “I mean, not entirely-- I don’t mind having a bit of the attention, y’know,” he grins, and there’s a look in his eye, there only for a moment, that leaves Rantaro wondering if that’s really as true as Kaito would have him believe. “But I’d rather it be for my accomplishments. I got plenty to brag about. Being born is great, but I’ve come so much further than that by now.”

That’s actually a nice way to put it, Rantaro thinks. If Rantaro was someone who was actually in the position to do good, if he  _ had  _ anything to brag about, then he’d say the same thing of himself. He has no hard time believing that Kaito’s done that, though. He seems like a nice guy. “Plenty to brag about, huh?” Rantaro smiles slightly. “I don’t doubt it, but if you’ve got the time to list some of your accomplishments, I’m in the market to be impressed, here.”

“We might be here a while, Amami,” Kaito teases.

“Hey, if I’m calling you Kaito, you should call me Rantaro, right?” Rantaro raises his eyebrows. Kaito blinks at that, like he wasn’t expecting Rantaro to reply in that way. It’s silly, considering that that’s just how interactions go, at least in Rantaro’s head, but who knows what kind of friends Kaito has. Or maybe he just subconsciously used Rantaro’s surname, and forgot he’d put them onto first-name-basis. Whichever the case, Rantaro won’t judge.

“Rantaro, then,” Kaito corrects, after a moment, sounding somewhat hesitant. He bounces back pretty quickly. “Still, you sure you got that much time?”

“I have a whole lot more time than I’ve had in a while, at the very least,” Rantaro says, with a sigh. “All of which I intend to spend on getting metaphorically laid, as my friend Miu put it,” Kaito snorts, and Rantaro feels himself smile. “So take it away, Mister Accomplished. I’m sure you’ve got plenty to tell.”

Kaito does. As Rantaro finishes off his scotch, Kaito talks about how he’s in the astronaut program now at JAXA, training to go to space in a year. Before that, he went to college in the United States, interning at NASA for a while, learning about being an astronaut and working from ground control and all these separate parts of space travel. It’s impressive, actually, and Kaito goes on several space-related tangents that leave Rantaro realising that this guy… really knows his stuff.

Beyond that, he’s passionate about it. As he starts talking about kinds of stars (on another tangent) his eyes light up, and he has to put down his beer because he’s gesticulating so wildly with his hands, an excited grin sneaking its way onto his face. Kaito has the sort of voice that raises in both pitch and volume when he gets passionate about something, Rantaro finds, and he gets pretty loud at one point. Lucky for the both of them, Kokichi and Miu are leagues louder over there with their drinking contest, so their conversation doesn’t attract any unwanted attention, but still, still.

It’s… endearing. It’s always endearing to Rantaro, watching people talk about what they’re passionate about. Miu is the kind of friend who calls you up at any hour past minute, high on coffee, absolutely ranting about her latest project. If you get Kiibo going on robotics, they can go off too, and their eyes always light up with excitement when they talk about it. It’s really cute, and honestly, Rantaro can totally see why Miu is so into them. Kokichi gets pretty excited too, specifically when he’s talking about psychology, or the latest prank he pulled. There’s a voice he uses when he’s about to start infodumping to you, and it makes Rantaro happy when he hears it, because it’s rare that Kokichi gets comfortable enough around people to do that. Even Himiko has her trigger topics. Sometimes she’ll go off about the plot of her latest novel, trying to fix plot holes by having a one-sided conversation with someone else. It’s nice to see her excited when she’s normally so subdued.

But there’s something about Kaito that keeps Rantaro’s interest, his gay, gay interest, the entire time he’s speaking. Maybe it’s in the way that he moves, or the way that he speaks, or maybe it’s just in those shy, awkward smiles that he wears whenever he realises he’s gone off on a rant about something only tangentially related, but Rantaro can feel his chest warming the more he listens to this man speak. He’s soft, damn it! He’s soft, and it’s cute, and Rantaro isn’t tipsy but the alcohol has loosened him out, and fuck, maybe he just wants to listen to a cute man talk about space for a little while. It’s  _ his  _ belated birthday party and he’ll be as gay on main as he wants to.

This is what Rantaro is thinking as he prompts Kaito to talk about more things, other topics he’s passionate about-- geology, environmental science, he’s really just a hard sciences man, and it’s a nice contrast from how he initially came off to Rantaro-- and then eventually about himself, which Kaito seems a little embarrassed to do at first, but eventually he does talk about his hobbies, the fact that he knits and he sometimes helps out at his grandparents’ bakery, and wow if Rantaro didn’t completely misjudge the kind of person Kaito is when he first sat down, this man knits in his spare time.

He also seems very excited when he talks about all the dogs that come by to visit, which prompts Rantaro to take out his phone and show the man pictures of his German Shepherd, and then Kaito is leaning in close to look over his shoulder, and god this man is warm. He’s so warm, it’s unbelievable. Rantaro can  _ feel  _ the heat radiating off of this man in waves, and it’s really not doing any good for his stupid, gay, touch starved heart. Eventually he just opens the Mochi (that’s his dog) folder and slides the phone over to Kaito so he can look himself, because god his heart can’t take this.

“I gotta say, man,” Kaito’s grin is contagious, especially the way that his tongue pokes out from between his teeth, his eyes darting between the pictures and Rantaro. “A little basic of you naming your dog Mochi.”

“I’m valid,” Rantaro huffs. “And bad at naming things. So what? I’m gay.”

Kaito laughs. “Me too, but I think I could come up with a better name than Mochi,” he shoots Rantaro another one of those tongue-in-teeth smiles. “So, where’s Mochi tonight? Hanging out back home?”

“She’s hanging out with my sister tonight, actually,” Rantaro rolls his eyes. “My friend Miu insisted on it, since apparently I’m not going to be coming home until late.” He sighs. “As if I could stay in a place as stuffy as this bar for more than a couple hours. I have long legs and I must move them. It’s a serious problem.”

“Oh, are you feeling okay?” Kaito’s eyebrows tilt slightly. “Need some air or somethin’? I know I always feel a little lightheaded when I’m drinking.” His eyes dart to Rantaro’s glass, which isn’t quite empty, but most of what’s there is just water from the melted ice cubes by now. “Not that you’ve had a lot, or anything, but still, y’know.”

“I don’t know that I’d say I need air,” Rantaro frowns. “But I might step outside anyway. Take a walk around the block. It’s pretty loud.” He rubs his temple. Bars, huh. They’re really not his scene. Rantaro isn’t easily overwhelmed, but god, it’s just. It’s a lot on every level.

“Want some company?” Kaito sits up a little, crushing his empty beer can in his hand. “I mean, I don’t wanna impose, or nothin’, but I could use the walk, I think. Besides, I’ve been dominating this conversation. Kinda wanna hear a bit about you, y’know, man.” He reaches out and pokes Rantaro’s shoulder.

Chuckling, Rantaro says, “There isn’t really a lot to tell.” Not a lot that’s  _ worth  _ telling, at any rate. Kaito waves him off.

“You’re just sayin’ that. C’mon, I’m very annoying when I want something. You might as well just give in.” Kaito grins. “If you don’t believe me, you can ask my friend Harumaki over there, if you’re brave enough to face the consequences of interrupting her date.”

“Hmmm,” Rantaro looks over again. He really doesn’t want to interrupt the lesbians. They have rights. “I think I’ll take your word for it. But I’d love the company,” and as he hops off his barstool, tugging his jacket over his shoulders and tossing out a tip for the bartender, he finds that it’s… true. Specifically regarding Kaito, too, which is a lot to be feeling about someone who he just met, but Rantaro is sure the feeling will fade once tonight is over. He doesn’t mind indulging a couple soft feelings while his buzz hasn’t worn off.

Before he steps outside with Kaito, he finds Himiko and lets her know where he’ll be going, and she nods at him, eyelids drooping slightly. She looks sleepy. Rantaro makes sure Kiibo is keeping an eye on her (because Himiko is a woman, in a bar, who is small and sleepy and defenseless) and then pulls up the collar of his jacket, following Kaito out the door.

They’re hit at once with a gust of wind, and Rantaro breathes in the cold smell, lifting a hand to shield his face. It’s chilly out here, even as early on into autumn as it is. The trees are all starting to turn dark reds and oranges and yellows, and the streetlights illuminate a little tornado of brown leaves, spinning around and around on the street.

Not a lot of cars going by right now. Rantaro finds himself appreciating the relative quiet as he falls into step next to Kaito on the sidewalk. They walk in silence for a moment, Rantaro watching his breathes leave his lips in visible puffs, until eventually Kaito prompts, “So, what’s your career, then? That’s where we started with me, right?”

It makes Rantaro laugh a little. “Well, don’t be turned off. I know you’re an environmentalist. I’m actually a businessman.” He shoots Kaito a small, wry smile, and Kaito blinks, rolling his head.

“I’m not judgin’ you,” he prefaces, “like, at all, a’ight? It’s a career and I can’t really place judgement on people. I wouldn’t know my head from my tail in business, but that doesn’t mean there’s not a use for it. I just, shit, man, I didn’t have you pegged for the type.” He chuckles a little. “You strike me so much as like, the teacher or counselor type, or maybe some kind of musician, hearing businessman out of your lips kinda took me off guard.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, it’s not exactly a career I’m passionate about.” Rantaro sighs, tucking his hands into his pockets. They’re getting a bit cold out here. “I couldn’t speak about it with the level of excitement or enthusiasm as you did. Nowhere near that, actually.” He puffs out his cheeks a little. “I was a business major. Graduated. Now I’m working for my father’s company. I travel in my spare time,” searching, searching, always searching, “but when I don’t have that, I’m usually traveling for work. Definitely not as nice to hear as your going to space one day.”

“Well, okay, don’t hold yourself to my standard,” Kaito chuckles. “But Rantaro, if you’re not passionate about business-- shit, forget not being passionate about it, it doesn’t sound like you really want to do it at all. Why not quit and pursue something you want to do?”   
  


Something Rantaro wants to do? A derisive laugh is bubbling out of Rantaro before he can stop it, and he lifts a hand to physically muffle the sound, not wanting to hurt Kaito’s feelings. It’s a perfectly reasonable question. Just… for someone other than Rantaro.

“Geez, it’s not that stupid of a question, is it?” Kaito grumbles a little.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s,” Rantaro gestures. “That wasn’t amusement, and it was unfair of me to be derisive when you don’t really…” he breathes out, shaking his head. “Nevermind. There was nothing kind about that laugh I did just now. It’s just,” he wrinkles his nose. How best to explain without actually explaining? “I have… other commitments. And until I get all of those sorted out, I need to keep working for my father. I… depend too much, on the financial support I get from him and from working for him, where I am now, to try and pursue any other careers.” He smiles a little. “Even if being a teacher is appealing.”

Almost painfully appealing, actually. Rantaro tutored a couple of underclassmen back in high school, and he’d… really enjoyed it. He’d enjoyed it so much that he had to stop, stop doing any tutoring or even thinking about doing it, because if he allowed himself to think about wanting it, when he inevitably had to quit later to focus on his search, it… would’ve hurt even worse.

The thing is, Rantaro isn’t the kind of person who’s allowed to want things. He does anyway, of course. He aches and he yearns and he wishes and wishes and wishes and that’s all he does is he wants, but if he lets himself want anything more than the one thing he needs to find, then he… won’t be able to pull himself together. There’s a part of Rantaro that feels like it’s so unfair, that he doesn’t get to have a life, that he doesn’t get to be passionate about anything other than finding his sisters, that he doesn’t get to hang out with his friends every Friday, that he doesn’t get to keep any partners because he’s always gone and even when he’s around he’s not there  _ emotionally,  _ but at the end of the day Rantaro was the one who lost all his sisters. And nobody else is going to work to get them back. Nobody. So it’s his responsibility. And that’s all Amami Rantaro is good for, all he’s meant to do. Is look.

“I see,” Rantaro can hear the frown in Kaito’s voice even without looking. It makes him feel a little guilty. “Sorry to hear that, man. Financial dependency is the worst way to be stuck to someone if you’re not in a place that makes you happy.”

“It is what it is,” Rantaro says, and he shrugs, looking back over at Kaito and smiling slightly. “I make the best of it. I get to see a lot of cool stuff while I travel, y’know.” But never want he wants to be seeing.

Kaito’s expression is inscrutable. He comes to a stop after a moment, the streetlamps casting odd, long shadows on his striking features, his brow slightly furrowed, lips slightly parted. He seems thoughtful, maybe even a little bit bothered, his gaze searching where it settles on Rantaro. It is in every way invasive and uncomfortable, and yet at the same time it’s almost… compelling, like Rantaro  _ wants  _ Kaito to look at him, maybe not quite in this way, but with his attention so fine tuned, his eyes so focused.

They stand like that in silence for a moment, long enough that a leaf falls from one of the trees leaning overhead and lands on Kaito’s shirt, and he doesn’t even move to push it off. Rantaro reaches out and plucks it away after a moment of hesitation, though, and Kaito blinks, that odd expression shifting only slightly.

Eventually, he says, “You’re not a very happy person, are you, Rantaro?”

There’s no real good response to that, nothing that would convince Kaito of anything other than what he’s apparently already guessed, nothing that could convince  _ Rantaro  _ that he’s happy where he is, that he’ll ever be happy, even when he’s  _ found  _ all his sisters things aren’t going to be like they were, and at the end of the day when Rantaro goes to sleep, that’s all he wants, is to be nine years old again, before Kikuko got lost in the Philippines, before sister after sister after sister went missing, before Amami Rantaro stopped being a person and turned into this, this thing that takes and takes and takes and wants and wants and wants and never, never has the capacity to sustain anything-- much less that love and intimacy that he craves so much.

No, there isn’t anything Rantaro can say to that, not anything except for the truth.

“I don’t need to be,” he says quietly. And he doesn’t. Rantaro doesn’t need to be happy to find his sisters, to bring them home, to make sure they’re safe. Rantaro doesn’t need to be happy to run his father’s business, to go out with his friends like this, to fill Mochi’s food bowl in the morning. He doesn’t need to be happy to do anything, really, even to dream like he still does at night for some reason, he just needs… to be alive.

Barely that.

“It is what is is,” Rantaro repeats, quietly.

Kaito, in response to that, takes Rantaro into a hug.

And it’s warm. It’s so warm. So much warmer than Rantaro’s broken parts can even make sense of in his head.

But he… knows enough, at least, to recognise the gentle yearning in his chest, the slight ache, the part of him that screams for more of it. It’s not something he deserves, or that he’ll ever allow himself to have.

But he hugs Kaito back, anyway. He really doesn’t have anything to lose right now.

**Author's Note:**

> rantaro is just. he is just


End file.
